The Four Color Media Monitor

The Comics Journal wrote an atrociously biased take on the pretentious James Robinson's Starman series from 1994-2001, in two parts so far, and it contains some troubling lines suggesting this was written from quite a leftist perspective. For example:

Starman is a story about the United States. Not the one we learned about in civics class. Not the golly-gee willikers, apple-pie-and-baseball bullshit that Ivy League-educated, far-right populists talk about while deifying “the founders” and pretending that history is only what you learned it was in first grade and anyone who tries to teach anything more complicated than that is desecrating those buried in Arlington. No, this is “The Old, Weird America” as Greil Marcus titled one of his books.

Well, what's this? A lecture in the vein of claiming patriotism is bad? Well that's what it sounds like. And why is the writer making it sound like Ivy League universities are inherently right-wing? If you took a look at the sorry state of modern colleges, that can refute what they're lecturing everyone with here. In any event, whatever form of "America" was being emphasized in Robinson's Starman series does not appeal to me, and definitely not today.

It’s easier to place all that weirdness “over there” in its own space so the rest of us can pretend that it doesn’t exist. Those weird stories with strange artwork and designs can exist ... somewhere else. That way the DCU can function in a vaguely “realistic” manner drawn in a vaguely realistic fashion. Comics are serious, after all. Far too serious for romance or humor or wackiness or surrealism.

I don't think the above was meant as a joke. It's just irritating in how it's implied "realism" is the only way, ditto "seriousness". Does this also mean Marvel's Excalibur from 1988-98, which I consider one of the most surreal adventures they ever published back in the day, was just a bad idea all over? This is insulting to the intellect, and belittles the work of past writers who emphasized merit and entertainment value first and foremost. Without that, how could even "realistic" work well? And then, as if it couldn't possibly get worse:

Art emerges from a cultural space. I believe that culture shapes behavior, or as Heraclitus argued more than two thousand years ago, geography is destiny. In the 21st century, something like Starman wasn’t of interest. A loving couple like Ralph and Sue Dibny solving crimes wasn’t of interest. Raping and murdering them, though? DC’s Identity Crisis and Marvel’s Civil War were made while the United States was a nation at war. Stories about superheroes behaving like horrible villains in the name of righteousness. Comics about “good” people doing monstrous things. That’s not a coincidence. Art is not created in a vacuum.

And here's another, and by far one of the most repellent moments in this essay, because the writer brings up those past crossovers/events and what occurred in their pages in such a casual manner, as though sexual violence were a trivial issue, along with the divisive politics both IC and CW contained. It does confirm though, that both miniseries were meant to be political metaphors. In one of the accompanying footnotes, the writer tops it off with, "The fact that the nation’s leaders were intent on acting as though we were not a nation at war meant that like repressed emotions, it comes out in other ways." So let's see if I can understand what's going on here. Because certain leftists disliked the policies that came up at the time from a Republican-led government, that literally justifies shoehorning established characters into terrible roles and situations? Also insulting to the intellect is how it's implied crime-solving couples is literally worthless as a storytelling concept.

Before we go further, since it's been a few years since the series ended, a recap for those who forgot what the comic was about (or haven't read it yet). Starman was about Jack Knight, but it also tied together the stories of every superhero ever named Starman. One of whom was Jack's father Ted, an inventor turned Golden Age superhero who is now retired. Another was Jack's brother David, who was killed in issue #1.

Assisting Jack in his super heroic efforts of truth, justice, and well, stuff: The Shade, a former Flash villain who Robinson writes as a complicated antihero whose life and mysterious past becomes central to the series. There's Sadie, with whom Jack falls in love, and in the final issue, retires to be with her and their child. The O'Dare family, who are all cops. Charity, a fortune teller. Plus the ghost of a pirate, a superpowered ex-con, and various other figures who appear over the course of the 80+ issues.

On the other side of the ledger was The Mist, a Golden Age supervillain now an aged man with a failing memory, who with the help of his two children, Kyle and Nash, stage a series of attacks in the opening story arc. A destruction-filled crime spree that included the murder of David Knight, aka Starman. Then Jack killed Kyle. Nash becomes the new Mist, swearing vengeance by planning to — well, we'll get to all that.

And I don't see what the big deal is here about turning the David Knight character into a sacrificial lamb. That only precipitated a very bad trend/obsession/habit that cost the original Supergirl, and the way writers continued over the years to do so, as though it were inherently wrong to have created these characters in the first place, was nothing short of repulsive. In hindsight, what stories I read from Robinson's Starman series were so empty and pointless.

Here's the 2nd part of this shoddy essay (and I won't be surprised if a 3rd is in preparation), and something decidedly eyebrow raising about artists is brought up:

Rereading the comic, it was a great showcase for artists. It was never defined by the artists, not even Harris, who co-created Jack and drew roughly half the run. The fill-in issues worked because they were very much written to the artists, and stood out from the regular run. I mentioned earlier that one of Robinson’s great skills was the way he took so many tones and styles and managed to make them part of this larger thing. This is one of the things I meant.

Today the writer is considered the author of the comic and treated like that by companies. Rarely are artists filling in and written to and allowed to go crazy in the way that Robinson let them. It may have been in service to the writer’s vision, to the series’ structure and plan, but it was a vision that allowed for many approaches and a significant level of collaboration.

Perhaps that's another problem with some overrated comics of their times, like the disgraced Neil Gaiman's Sandman series, recalling there were several notable artists who drew stories for that too - it seemed to serve more as a showcase for artists to draw what amounted to nothing, all for the sake of promoting artists who could be as overrated as the writers.

Reading through the first few years of Starman, I am reminded how much comics have changed in the years since. There are story arcs, single issue stories, two or three issues stories, issues that are designed to transition between story arcs and catch up with multiple characters. A time before comics would “write for the trades”. That shift — and I say this as one who since the 1990s would wait for the trade — has not been a good thing.

Umm, even when comics aren't written for the trades, that doesn't mean they can't be awful. And the half-hearted way at least a few of the characters were handled in Starman was atrocious. And there were bad storylines 3 decades ago that weren't written for trades per se, like Emerald Twilight, something overrated writers like Robinson never seemed to complain about. Interestingly enough, the article actually admits there's something wrong with the Starman series in more ways than meets the eye:

One of the sources of superhero comics are old boys adventure tales. I keep thinking about this strange lineage of stories that stretch back to Daniel Defoe in the 18th century and Alexander Dumas in the 19th. That leads to Jack London to Joseph Conrad to John Buchan to Graham Greene to John Le Carre to Robert Stone to Viet Thanh Nguyễn.

One reason they were boys adventures was because there were no girls allowed. Which brings me to Starman’s great failure. There are plenty of things that, in reading the entirety of the series over a short time many years later, may not hold up as well as one would hope. That read differently in chunks than monthly. That didn’t age well. Some plotting that didn’t work as well as they thought. All of this is to be expected. The big failure and disappointment of the series is the female characters.

I wrote earlier that the book is the story of Jack and Ted Knight, of fathers and sons. It does get into Jack and David’s relationship and the complex nature of brothers over the course of its run. That complex relationship of loving someone even though you may not like them. The series’ main problems is that none of the female characters have the depth or complexity of the male characters.

Nash, who after the first story arc becomes the new Mist, is the biggest disappointment. When we meet her in the first story arc she is the stuttering daughter helping her father and her brother. Her brother Kyle is the light of her father’s eye. The one who will become The Mist, the second generation supervillain who will take on his father’s mantle. Later in the series we see The Mist’s misogyny when he speaks of his daughter in a way that makes clear why she might have grown up stuttering and seeking a certain invisibility, even as she was desperate to gain her father’s approval. While she might say that she is taking on her father's mantle, it’s the death of her brother that inspires her and drives her.

Nash goes about being a villain in a familiar way, as though following a script. She stages heists. She kills a few superheroes. I think most characters in superhero comics tend to be one note, flat characters. Is the flatness of her character deliberate? For years I’ve heard about this need to make villains complicated. Yes, people who disagree with me have as deep and rich inner lives as I do. I’ve lived through decades of pop culture that was entranced by Hannibal Lecter and has regurgitated a million serial killers who are interesting and complicated. The truth is that they’re not. Political and business leaders literally laugh like cartoon characters when presented with evidence that they’re hurting and killing people. They may be sentient, but it’s hard to think of them as well-rounded human beings with complicated feelings and inner lives.

Is Nash the product of her environment? Incapable of being a full, complete person and playacting out relationships, imitating her father and other villains? Was she an intentionally flat, boring shell of a human being who lacks an inner life?

The most notable thing about her is that she rapes an unconscious Jack. She does for the purpose of becoming pregnant. Something we would see in the pages of Tom Strong from Alan Moore and Chris Sprouse a few years later. It remains uncomfortable thirty years later. Some of that is simply because it is rape. She does it to a man, which makes it about power as much as sex, which, yes, is always the case. Her plan, to get knocked up by Jack and then to raise their son to be a villain who will kill his father, is one of those plots that I guess makes sense?

No it does not. If anything, what's described here is sick. It's the kind of "product of its time" that gives management of female cast members a bad name. It could also explain why a character like Doris Lee was never made use of, and was apparently established as having been retroactively murdered in the story. For now, what they say about the Nash character is certainly repellent. Note the part about her killing at least a few superheroes, and even raping the star of the show, and something is definitely wrong. I hesitate to think, what if she'd been written as a lesbian, and wound up invoking offensive stereotypes about lesbians while homosexual men were let off the hook by contrast? The part about her resorting to rape of a man, whether conscious or not, is another irritating problem with this pseudo-Starman series - while such things are obviously possible in real life, here it amounts to shock value and cheap sensationalism that can obscure the even more pressing problem of men violating women, based on how contrived and forced it was. And that Nash would be written obliterating any superhero characters who could be minor is another signal what's wrong with the tale: it's all an excuse to rid DC of any characters they consider "useless". All by people who don't have the courage to admit their "talent" in writing and art is completely lacking.

The Mist and Starman. Two elder figures, shaped by the First and Second World Wars, respectively, still alive at century’s end. Both heralded for their actions, but one emboldened by what he did during the war, the other weakened by it. The two men cast shadows over the decades, and over their children, each losing their firstborn son, who sought to take their father’s place. Each then replaced by their second-born.

In that framing, Nash’s plan to have a baby with Jack who will then kill Jack, makes a certain sense. The way that opera and myth have a logic to them.

In the end, The Mist returns. While Ted Knight gave up his role and let Jack find his own way, we see The Mist driven by hatred towards not just his old foe, but his own daughter and grandson. And that hate literally consumes him, as he intends to destroy the city and everyone in it.

The city is saved by Ted, who sacrifices himself, after holding his grandson in his arms for the first and last time. Before encouraging his son to find his own path forward. In Ted’s final act of bravery, he uses a device to lift the Mist and the building with a bomb in it above the atmosphere where it can safely explode. In his last moments, Ted Knight becomes a star.

Considering that the final issue of the comic was released in 2001, at the turn of the millennium, that’s not a meaningless fable.

It is meaningless. And both Starman and Mist are "heralded"? What does that mean, that the villain is admired for his criminal activities? Sorry, that's just further compounding all that's wrong with it. Not to mention that what Nash had planned for Jack gives motherhood a bad name. And that Ted would be turned into a sacrificial lamb for the sake of a bizarre series like this is disrespectful to original creators Gardner Fox and Jack Burnley. So the hero can't die from natural causes and auto accidents; it can only be as some kind of pyhrric victory where a villain is made to look like he's in some kind of "fun" rivalry with a villain. It reeks of moral equivalence.

Perhaps the comic’s biggest failure is Sadie, or rather, the failure of Sadie as a character. She’s the character who Jack falls in love with. He goes into space for her in search of her brother who everyone else thinks is dead. He gives up being Starman and moves away for her. Not just for her, but she’s one reason he moves and realizes it’s time to give up being a hero. A character like that should jump off the page. Their relationship should burn.

I call her the comic’s big failure because she comes off fairly flat.

Gee, if the ladies in Starman are that poorly written, why doesn't the essayist think this comic is a failure? Even the father-son-brother relationships in this tale were dreary and went nowhere in what I read. The main problem is that otherwise insulted the whole superhero theme, right down to the cosmic rod originally used by Ted in the Golden Age tales; also note how Jack takes to using a large pole-style device as the series continues. Perhaps that's another problem: the series has a condescending view of superheroic themes, including the costume worn by Ted.

What would it have meant for Robinson to center Sadie and her romance with Jack in the comic? My gut says that the comic would have been cancelled. This is me being cynical, but I don't think that I’m wrong.

There are two stereotypes to acknowledge about romance stories. One is that the romance genre is largely written and read by women. The other is that it is a largely unserious genre that has led to women having unrealistic views of romance and men. Romance is a genre with tropes and expectations. Unlike other genres like mystery, crime, westerns, thrillers, etc., romance, which remains largely written by and about women, as a genre is not considered art and remains looked down upon.

I will admit to reading very few romance novels in my life. Like all genres, good writers are able to use tropes and expectations but can write thoughtfully about people. Great romantic comedies and dramas work because they understand their characters and while they contain tropes, they are telling the stories of people. Genre contains tropes and myths that are important to cultures. That's why they continue and continue to be passed on.

If romance books give girls and women unrealistic expectations, that implies that men have “realistic” expectations. Or takes as a given that whatever men think/believe is "the norm.” What are those expectations? How do we get those expectations? Supposedly women believe in a prince charming who will come along and save them. I won’t lie, some people think that, or want that.18 A romance is all about fighting over expectations versus reality, and the demands people place on each other, and how to live in the world. That’s not subtext, it is literally the text of everything from Nora Ephron to Jilly Cooper to Jane Austen. The bad books and movies may feature poorly drawn characters uttering bad dialogue, but it is the subject.

Romance in men’s stories, and boys stories, are often side stories. If they appear at all, the romance is secondary. The object of the romance is secondary as well. The relationship is secondary to the plot. Secondary to the character's passion. Secondary to the character’s destiny. What the main character does is the most important thing. The romance must fit into the man’s life and purpose that already exists. Men look for someone who believes in them, their passion, their purpose. Who will support them in their quest. The romance is not about negotiation and conversation, but about passion and choosing.

Is this an argument that romance and relationships should be a minor aspect of our lives for everyone? Or that men should see romance and relationships as a minor aspect of our lives? Because whatever one’s thoughts on monogamy and compulsive heterosexuality, those are very different things.

I don't know about the romance genre, but drama is something that's been marketed to men as much as women, and has succeeded more or less with adults in the west, including incorporation of romance. Of course, if drama is what Starman is supposed to be, it fails. I think it's quite a stretch to say romance has never appeared in men/boys stories, because what about Superman and Lois Lane, Spider-Man and Mary Jane Watson? Romance has appeared in stories for men/boys, more or less, and has been appreciated by many of the same, though today, it's certainly been ruined beyond belief by wokeness. Which is decidedly what the Starman series from Robinson represented too. And if the columnist didn't read much romance, how can he be certain women have "unrealistic" expectations, or that even have "realistic" ones? Interesting he speaks of poorly drawn characters with bad dialogue, because that decidedly describes Robinson's shoddy Starman series too.

I wonder sometimes what it means to love superhero comics as an adult? Heroic stories that lack a third act, a resolution, where one faces the consequences of all that has come before. Is this love for comics, which often translates into — if not paralleled by — a love of serialized and procedural stories. Adventure and crime stories featuring the same characters. Who may or may not age, for whom time may or may not continue, but one episode to the next, they continue having new adventures and solving new problems.

Much has been written for decades about the embrace of superheroes in the United States in the post-WWII era and what it means and represents. The embrace of superheroes in popularity writ large in the culture in the 21st Century is often seen in relation to a decline of American power. It remains to be seen what happens next. As the United States declines in economic and cultural power, will they continue to be embraced or will the genre decline?

That's for the moviegoing public though, which is different from people who visit comic book shops. Does our embrace and interest in superheroes represent an arrested development? There is a term I learned years ago, Peter Pans, for adult men who aren’t playboys or fuckboys. They aren’t against marriage. They might want kids. Maybe? Maybe not? They’re in no rush. It’s a bemused term tinged with sadness used to describe some men. I wonder if a love of procedural stories and superheroes, full of ongoing stories and last minute saves, is either a sign of such arrested development, or a contribution to it. Swimming in stories without a third act, without resolution and consequences, do we see that, even unconsciously, as a model in our lives? Does it prevent us from what we should be and need to be doing?

If you're going to write up stories like Robinson's at the expense of what themes made them work in the first place, you don't love superhero comics as an adult. And unfortunately, there's a certain segment of society today, moviegoing or otherwise, who are anti-marriage, even anti-child-bearing. Another reason why this pretentious piece falls flat is because it then veers into a more noticeably political diatribe, and even brings up one such item from Warren Ellis, an Iron Man miniseries he wrote, along with the IM movie from 2008:

Ted was a fragile figure. I don’t mean that mockingly. He had a mental breakdown. One tied to the murder of Doris Lee, his first love, but also to his work on the Manhattan Project. Here’s where I think that Robinson’s Britishness come into play. I was reminded of the Warren Ellis and Adi Granov miniseries Iron Man: Extremis and the series’ take on the military-industrial complex. The idea that Tony Stark and his father were pushed into developing and building weapons from an early age. That this system doesn’t want the best and brightest to design new cities and energy sources, and bring about a Star Trek-like future. Instead it’s focused on weapons, and to a lesser degree, consumer goods. I would argue that this critique — even if just a few pages buried in six issues that consists largely of lengthy fights, an obvious reveal, ending with Stark having new fancy powers — makes this the fourth most subversive comic Marvel has published.

Compare that to the Iron Man film, where the elder Stark’s role in the Manhattan Project is a part of why he’s so great. Rather than question the systems around Stark and militarism, instead we have movies that were used to help promote the military and American militarism and privatized war.

I hated the first Iron Man movie. That put me in a distinct minority among people I knew. The Afghanistan in the film had nothing to do with the actual country, but was instead Dick Cheney’s wet dream. The same cartoonish fantasy used to sell the Afghan and Iraq wars. A lawless place where Muslims of many languages and cultures came together to be evil terrorists whose ultimate goal is …something. Something evil, obviously, even if makes no sense. In Iron Man it involved obtaining weapons, attacking Americans, and rounding up villagers. They’re terrorists. We don’t need to think about who they are or what they want. They don’t make any sense. We just need to kill them. And we need bigger and better weapons to do it.

The second Iron Man film included an Elon Musk cameo and featured Tony Stark declaring “I've successfully privatized world peace.” How did we go from a Republican President pushing through tax cuts for the rich and planning destabilizing wars to today when we have … a Republican President pushing through tax cuts for the rich and planning destabilizing wars? Where people who once supported those wars now think they were a horrible mistake, and that the country’s real enemies are the people who protested that war believing it would be a horrible mistake.

Well, this certainly is another clue what's wrong with this whole pointless commentary about the Starman series. I knew the Comics Journal was a leftist periodical that had to be taken with a grain of salt, and this isn't improving things one bit. In hindsight, while the movie may have established that the terrorists in the 2008 film were being employed by figures like Obadiah Stane, it is rather surprising they would allude to serious issues like Islamic jihadism, because today, it's become far less likely, if at all. Nor would they invite Musk for a cameo in their films, let alone Donald Trump. But no matter the standings of the Comics Journal, what they're writing here is a complete slap in the face to advocates of freedom, including victims of Islam, and that also includes victims of 911. The essayist completely blurs what's wrong with the Religion of Peace, disregards victims of the same, right down to victims of honor murders, and even shoehorns in anti-conservative propaganda to boot. He even refuses to consider that there were people at the time of 911 who thought Iran was a more pressing concern than Iraq, and that was dealt with earlier this year. So Starman, along with the Ellis-penned IM miniseries, is what he considers fabulous? Absolutely shameful.

I was eager to read Batman: Face the Face, the first comic of Robinson's in a while, and was just unimpressed. Anyone could have written that. This is part of what was behind Airboy. The comic got attention for the nasty transmisogyny, which I will not defend, and honestly sits uncomfortably in the story. I think it’s worth noting just how angry and nasty the book is in general. I won’t say it’s Robinson lashing out at the comics industry and himself, but it kind of is. It might open with a sad and almost over-the-top tone, but I think that obscures the sadness at the heart. This feeling that his career has come to an end, his marriage has come to an end, he hates himself, and feels like a failure.

As someone with career and money troubles, who lives alone and has been known to wallow, who has had depression and suicidal ideation for most of my life, I can relate.

Well I can't. Because it does nothing to encourage and inspire, or give somebody a reason for happiness. Interesting they bring up the alleged "transphobia" topic involving the Airboy comic Robinson wrote, because that was tasteless regardless. But while Robinson's an artistic failure, the problem is that in a way, he's the kind who's been failing upwards. Why else would he have gotten the jobs he did?

I’m guessing that Robinson didn’t invent that above dialogue out of thin air, but quoted it directly from someone. How sad is it that this was what so many editors took away from that? How pathetic that people who make comics had only the most surface level understanding of the book. After Starman wrapped up, Robinson stepped away from comics briefly and it’s hard to blame him if this was how the industry responded. I don’t think he meant for comics to be a stepping stone to something else, something “better,” but he wrote a great comic series and got to conclude it on his own terms. Why should he turn around and try to do that again? He tried to do something else. If editors didn’t understand what he had accomplished, why work with people who don’t appreciate you?

When he returned to comicdom later on, he was given the keys to retconning Alan Scott into a gay man in Earth 2, a series that didn't last long. With that kind of obsessive PC direction he took, exploiting other people's creations for his petty politics instead of at least creating new ones, how could anybody consider him an "auteur"? Robinson's not the only one, of course, who's done stuff like this, taking advantage of other people's creations to convey questionable beliefs and directions. But he only made bad situations worse, and simultaneously, the editors/publishers have to shoulder blame for enabling these situations and doing nothing to reverse them.

Anyway, this is one of the grimiest, stupidest essays I've ever read from the Comics Journal, and only makes me glad I don't own stories like Robinson's today. He was like a precursor to Geoff Johns, and did work with the latter on JSA and Hawkman in the early 2000s, which were also overrated, and made clear why I'd rather stick with the older stories than read their modern slop. So I guess it's ironic if Robinson's career sputtered in the end, seeing how he hasn't written much in the past decade. Unfortunately, seeing as he's a SJW in his own way, he's probably not disappointed, because such people are more interested in bringing down the quality of past creations than in building up better storytelling. As for the Comics Journal writer, he certainly knew how to exploit the subjects for conveying his own awful politics, and makes clear why the magazine is such an embarrassment.

Labels: dc comics, dreadful artists, dreadful writers, golden calf of death, golden calf of villainy, history, Iron Man, marvel comics, misogyny and racism, moonbat writers, msm propaganda, politics, violence, women of dc